American Gothic

As the century turns Everything goes cold I reach for a faded tale Of a nation once told The new industrial god machine The barons of toil, and their ever expanding reach The driller a titan The lender a lord Prosperity in the open grave is what they preach My twilight burns lonesome The dream has been felled I yearn for some respite A shred of valor I once held A hail to progress And eternal returns From the frontier towns Billows of black A palace of gold He who saddled the iron horse Pulls god's country in tow Cursed! Given unto the thousand tombs Beguiled! A mirage in black smoke Abandoned! Golden streets tarnished with blood Idols of steam, gods of steel And all else consumed Is this not the path of heaven I was put here to tread? Years of toil is all here I have found And a cross for the dead Cursed! Given unto the thousand tombs Beguiled! A mirage in black smoke Abandoned! Golden streets tarnished with blood Idols of steam, gods of steel And all else consumed The thousand condemned to lie in the graves below Tombs The veil drifts to the ground of western A looming shadow from the hill Promise The dream not die, it had never lived An ill destined climb Toward the city upon the hill Never the first There will ever be more still Within in the land of opportunity A thousand tombs await A toast to thee, oh captains of industry It was always you, You always held our fate

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 24, 2025

High in the north, Under the mountains' gaze Two bodies still hand It was there by the blood fevered hands of men She they called the cattle thief was slain 50 men in black coats Ride in from the south It is not justice that fills their hearts Or foams at their mouths The queen of the mavericks, Daughter of the plains Her corpse hangs for rumor Her corpse hangs for company aims This land bestowed upon the barons Every grass every straw We will draw lines across the open range By order of law A reckoning comes From those branded thieves Driven to desperation And disparate means Sound out the bells of war Within the county line Here in the wake of the thaw In a young nation blind It's war they've waged It's blood they crave They come bringing fire They come bringing siege A note on the corpse of the peoples' men "Thieves beware" it would read Beware! The gods of men are he who holds The gunpowder and the gold Beware! The company kills for company men If you should find your name upon their list... But beware thee Oh men of the company Beware the ghost of Cattle Kate Beware what you create They're riding out Through the dusk, to the north They bring menacing Blind in rage And endless violence The lost men ride Into the fray Fifty men rode in Under promise of pay Seventy names on a list Fifty dollars each name Oh thee men of the association Who murdered in profits name Absolved by your own You carry on in prosperity Devoid of shame But there remains A shadow on the range The ghost of the cattle thief Whispers her claim I heard you seen her now A dream or not she'll wander The county round Until the end You sure that what you fear is gone? You blindly hope I heard you crawl from her now Endlessly You are never alone

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 24, 2025

A bad wind blowin', Blowin' round Down the hillside, into your town Here it comes you take the black blood from the ground It always comes back round A reaper on The oilfields He's carried long And he carries still Count your blessings now Lay your children down You're spending others' blood, well You'll pay your own A reaper on The oilfields He's carried long And he carries still These plains will make for your shallow grave They'll wrap you in a flag and Forget your name, yeah A reaper on The oilfields You toiled long And you'll toil still Your soul belongs now To the field They hide. They hide. They hid. They hid.

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 24, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Mark their cries, the coming trains They pierce the night sky This is the song of a plight in vain And men who wait to die Throughout the western lands The drought takes hold The swirling storm becomes all Is this the bitter hand of rapture told The perennial nightfall This sit he song that the plainsmen sing As they expire int eh fields Before too long, they'll meet their king While the barons claim their yield A dark cloud a comin' down It's like they said That pale horseman He'll be ridin' down now Or the reaper in his stead Smoke from the factories blends with the dust And the engine's billowing steam The sun replaced by the darkness of this new eternity The black of night, now the waking day as I bury another son I beg of you, why the cross forsakes? What is that I've done? A dark cloud a comin' down It's like they said That pale horseman He'll be ridin' down now Sinner, you bow your head Sing to me, desperately My exodus, my heavenly Sing to me, our song of smoke That billows out and leaves us grasping for release The soot that covers This open land It lays us down, dust to dust My choking hands Sing to me! That ol' sad song My exodus, my heavenly Wrong! There is nothing left Nothing remains The preacher sells the oil from the snake This is the song of the end of days In death I may finally awake

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 24, 2025